A Different Beginning
by SassyMuse
Summary: What if the first confrontation between Crichton and Crais had gone a little differently? Crichton comes up with a plan – a term that should be applied loosely – to get himself out of trouble. Or should that be – out of the pan and into the fire?


Disclaimer: _Farscape belongs to The Jim Henson Company and the Sci-Fi Channel. No money was made in writing this._

* * *

The big redhead alien, the Luxan, their guard, potential kidnapper and (if that wasn't weird enough) possibly Crichton's ally was down for the count, while Crichton and Aeryn were surrounded by the peacekeepers. A soldier was securing handcuffs around the big guy's wrists.

A man with a close cut beard dressed in black came towards them in a commanding stride, all the while staring intently at Crichton. The man was definitely high ranking, as the other soldiers deferred and parted around him like the red sea.

"Captain Crais–" Aeryn was ignored as the Captain walked past her and stood directly before Crichton.

Crichton could practically feel the waves of hostility pouring off the man.

"Identify Yourself!" Crais barked.

Crichton got a flash of memory. Aeryn was straddling his chest and her hand clutching his throat, as she said "Officer Aeryn Sun, Special Peacekeeper Commando, Icarion Company, Pleisar Regiment. Identify yourself."

"Sir, he isn't Peacekeeper or even Se-" The sound of the Aeryn voice, not in his head, brought Crichton attention to the here and now.

"Did I ask you to speak, Officer Sun?" Crais cut her off.

Captain Bailar Crais stared at the unnamed man – he seemed to have no difficulty in functioning in the hot climate of the commerce planet. In fact the man appeared to be... sweating? Clearly, this was not a pure Sebacean.

A calculating gleam appeared in Crais' eyes as looked at Aeryn. "How do you know this... alien? Because as you know – Peacekeeper High Command has very clear parameters regarding contact with unclassified alien life forms. And the_ consequence_ for such _prolonged_ contact, well…"

Crais slowly smiled as Aeryn clenched her jaw.

Crais turned his gaze and drilled it through the other male's. "And I will, personally, enjoy _pulling him_ _apart _to see made he is made of."

Crichton's face whitened. _Oh shit! He's gonna kill me! Maybe both of us! _His eyes flickered over to Aeryn; her face was devoid of emotion.

"What is your name?" Crais demanded.

Crichton rolled back his shoulders and stood ramrod straight as if in parade rest. "You don't have the clearance to know my name, rank or mission." Looking straight-ahead and lying through his teeth, he tried to quell his rising panic. And talk his way out of this whole damn mess using the scant bits and pieces gleaned from Crais' evil monologue. _It was like he was auditioning for the part of a Bond villain!_ And what little conversation there had been with Aeryn, while she looked at Crichton as if he'd gone fucking nuts. He probably had. But he had to do something and it seemed that bullshitting his way out of this was his only option. And by God as his witness he'd be the best bullshitter there ever was!

Crais was taken aback. "You claim to be a peacekeeper! You're an impostor; you are not pure sebacean worthy of rank, but a mongrel! You're an accomplice to a ship full of escaping prisoners, and," He paused. "My brother's _murderer_!"

Crichton stance faltered, "Your brother's what?" He asked in surprise.

"You charged my brothers' Prowler in that white... death pod of yours."

An inaudible groan came from the ground next to Crichton's feet – D'Argo was coming round, with a frell of a headache from being knocked unconscious by the butt of that phasor rifle.

"Wait – I did everything I could to avoid him!" Crichton vehemently denied Crais' accusation.

The Luxan remained still, and quiet, his mind slowly dawning to the situation he was in, as the conversation taking place above his head filtered in.

"…That prowler hit mine by accident and nearly derailed years of research for Peacekeeper High Command." Crichton paused. "I didn't mean for him to crash and I'm sorry a fellow comrade is dead." Crichton bowed his head. He felt tinges of guilt for lying but it was nothing compared to the overwhelming numb surreal-ness glazed with pinches panic about the whole situation. _Hell!_ He _still_ hadn't gotten over the fact he was on _another freaking_ _planet_! He prayed to God, Yoda and Q (he wasn't picky) for this ruse to work.

D'Argo filled with rage. This drannit, this frelling PK whom Zan had rescued, was grieving for a soldier that would have happily destroyed Moya and all those aboard her! "Peacekeeper dren!" The Luxan roared, rearing upwards. He startled the guards, but they quickly grabbed his arms.

"I should have killed you when I had the chance!" D'Argo shouted as he struggled.

D'Argo used the men retraining him as support as he arched his back to deliver a well-aimed kick to Crichton's chin, snapping the man's head back. Crichton fell down hard on his butt in the dirt as the Luxan was wrestled to the floor.

"Take him away! Prepare him for transit to the nearest maximum labor planet – Mikar 7," Crais ordered.

"My oath as a Warrior. One day – I vow, I _will_ kill you _both_!" D'Argo shouted at Crais and Crichton as the Luxan was dragged away.

Crais returned his attention back his questioning, his temper slightly mollified as the other man got unsteadily to his feet. "What research?"

"I told you," Crichton paused, and spat – blood red saliva splattered on the ground. "You do not have the clearance," he repeated and wipe his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Fine, then I will contact High Command myself–"

"You could do that," Crichton interrupted, "But, they will deny all knowledge of me, this is top secret."

Crais growled under his breath and bark out an order. "Escort him to the ship."

"Should we cuff him, Sir?"

"Do not question me! Only to do as I ordered! Now escort him to the ship."

The lower ranking men started to lead Crichton away. He walked between the peacekeeper guards, two on either side of him, close to each elbow. _What the hell, am I (possibly us, mustn't forget Aeryn!) going to do now?_ He seriously hadn't thought this through. But there was time now, _between_ _here _and the _space__ ship _to come up with a _plan_.

"And you!" Crais yelled and Aeryn snapped to attention. "Aeryn Sun - follow me," Crais ordered.

Aeryn's rank had been absent – her title stripped from her name. This did not bode well for her at all. Aeryn felt a shadow of fear fall upon her as she fell into step behind her commanding officer. Following just a few paces behind Crichton – the strange man that had perhaps cost her everything. If Crichton was, even, his really name?


End file.
